Last Words
by Nolo Laborare Sed Volo Legere
Summary: "Morgan could have at least given Reid a chance to try to save him. But Reid hadn't even known that Morgan had needed saving." Warnings inside.


**Warnings: This is the reading of Derek Morgan's suicide note. Therefore, it has all the subject matter that a suicide note by Morgan might entail, including,but not limited to: Mentions of suicide, mentions of past/childhood sexual abuse, non-canon compliant homosexuality, and unrequited love.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Criminal Minds, Maeve would not have died, Emily would still be part of the team, and The Big Game and Revelations would not exist. However, those things did happen and those episodes do exist, so it can be logically assumed that I do not own Criminal Minds.**

Reid watched them roll Morgan away, that damned black body bag zipped up, hiding his teammate from him. The shock had not yet settled; Reid was still denying what he had seen: Morgan, with his wrists slit, blood- too much blood- pooled around the cuts.

The rest was a blur- grabbing his phone and calling 911, trying to stop the blood when he knew it was already too late, watching the medics give up, hearing them call time of death.

Being held up by Hotch- when did he get there? - when he collapsed, brain unable to function when faced with the reality that his best friend had killed himself. Seeing that body bag cover his friend.

Reid clutched the envelope, the one that had been on the floor next to Morgan, staring unseeing at his own name printed clearly in the centre.

He sat heavily on the ground. Hotch said something about finding something to clean the blood and disappeared down the hall. Reid almost wanted to stop Hotch from leaving him alone, even though it would only be for as long as it took Hotch to find cleaning supplies, but then he realized that Hotch was giving him some privacy to read the letter.

Reid opened the envelope with trembling hands. He slowly slid out the paper inside, being careful not to rip the thin paper. He unfolded the pages, seeing Morgan's surprisingly neat scrawl covering the note sheets. He began to read, both tears and emotions causing him to scan the pages at a slower rate than usual, letting the full weight of the words sink in.

_Dear Reid,_

_I know writing this isn't enough. That a letter won't make it hurt any less. I guess I need to tell you these things, even just for my own sake. Maybe this will give you some closure. _

Closure? Reid didn't want closure- He wanted Morgan.

_I know that you need an explanation. I know. I wrote letters to everyone else, mailed them right before I picked up the knife, so that they would know what I had done before they read them. But I didn't really explain to them. But I do need to explain to you. That's why I left this one for last- this letter is the hardest for me to write. _

_I… _

_Shit. I suck at this. Trying to explain my feelings. _

_**I didn't want to do it this way.**__ I didn't want to be like Gideon or your father: just another guy who abandoned you. I know you hated that they left you letters, or rather, you hated that the letters were all that they left you. I almost didn't write this. Thought of maybe making a tape, but I figured this way you can read it in that freaky, amazing, fast way that you do and be done with it._

Didn't Morgan understand, that the letter was what he feared most? More than the dark, more than he feared becoming like his mother. He feared searching for his friends, and finding only letters in their places. Now Morgan had just left him a letter? Reid blinked back the tears and continued reading.

_I know you will blame yourself, beat yourself up over not seeing the signs, like you did after Elle left. __**Just know that you couldn't have done anything**__. _

Couldn't have done anything?! He could have at least talked to him. Morgan could have at least given Reid a chance to try to save him. But Reid hadn't even known that Morgan had needed saving.

_I've wanted to kill myself since I was a kid. Well, more accurately: I've wanted to kill myself since I was thirteen, and Carl Buford raped me for the first time. _

Reid felt sick. Morgan had been suicidal for more than two decades, and no one had noticed?

_If you want to blame someone, blame what happened to me as a child, blame me, not yourself. __**This isn't your fault. **_

Of course it was his fault. Reid had never been enough to stop his family from leaving him. (Morgan was more than a friend, Morgan was the older brother Reid had always wished for as a child.)

_I don't want you to hate me, kid. Not like you hated Gideon. I'm sorry, Reid. But for me, please don't hate me. I can't stand the thought of you hating me. I'm not asking you to be ok with this, or to accept this, or even to understand this, but I am asking that you don't hate me for this. _

Reid could never hate Morgan.

_I hope you aren't the one who finds me. But I know it will most likely be either you or Garcia, and I'd rather it be you than her. I know it's selfish of my to want that, and I wish I could make sure neither of you would be the one to find me. But I can't. So if you found me, I am truly sorry, Pretty Boy. And if Penelope found me, please, don't let her cry alone. _

_This isn't your fault, Reid. What I'm about to say will make you believe that it is your fault, but it's my fault. I know you, you will blame yourself for this, but just remember- I'm the one who had the knife, not you. I'm the one who slit my wrists. _

_God, Pretty Boy. I just, I really love you. I watched you grow up, from an extremely socially awkward, painfully nerdy, encyclopaedia-brained, albeit cute, kid, into a less socially awkward, adorably nerdy, amazingly intelligent, beautiful man. And some of that change was you, and some of it was because the way I saw you changed. I loved you. Whenever you were in danger, my heart would seize up, panic clenching my lungs in a fist- I wouldn't be able to breathe. Those were the times when it became clear to me that I would have to go first- because if you died first, I would be nothing. I wouldn't be able to physically deal your loss. When Hankel had you, the pain in my heart was so great I couldn't take it. I was hitting stuff, furious at Tobias for hurting you, and furious at my own inability to stop him. I couldn't physically or emotionally bear the thought of losing you. That was when I realised I truly loved you. _

_I know it's really shitty of me to confess this in a letter like this, in my suicide note, but I could never get the courage to tell you in person__**. I was so damned scared, kid. Scared because I knew you didn't- couldn't- love me back, not like this. Scared that you'd be disgusted, or that you'd hate me. Scared that you would stop being my friend.**__**Scared because I was afraid that loving you made me like Carl, and that was my biggest fear, right next to losing you. **_

"Goddamn it, Morgan!" Reid could never hate Morgan. He knew he could never love Morgan like Morgan wanted, but he would never do anything to make Morgan feel he was disgusted with him.

_God, I was so scared I was going to do something that would make me like Carl… I guess I let him win._

_The reason I finally did it, the reason I finally killed my self, was shame. I felt so dirty all the time. Whenever I closed my eyes, I felt __**his**__ hands. Touching me- touching my arms, my shoulder, and my head. Touching my knees, my thighs, my… Felt his mouth, on my mouth and on… other places. Felt him, felt Carl, everywhere. _

_I am- was- damaged, Doc. _

_And whenever I looked at you, love and lust and desire flowing through me, I would want to touch you. And then I would feel Carl's hands touching me in the ways I wanted to touch you, and I would hear him whispering in my ear, telling me all the ways I could make you _**feel good**_, and it would make me sick. I'd find myself in the bathroom, doubled over puking my guts out because I'd be so disgusted with myself. So __**ashamed**__ of myself. _

_I just couldn't live like that anymore, Reid. I needed to get his hands off of me, his voice out of my head, and this was the only way how. _

_I love you, Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. I love you, and I am sorry that I hurt you. Because I know that even though you will try to hide it from everyone, including yourself, that this will hurt you. And for that I feel that I am worse than any unsub. _

_With more love than I can express,_

_Derek Morgan_

_P.S. Don't try to clean up the blood. Let someone else do it. _

Reid broke down sobbing. How could none of them have seen the pain Morgan was in?

Just then Hotch came back in the room. He saw Reid's tears and knelt down next to him. He rubbed his back, soothing him as one would a young child, until Reid's sobs faded into hiccups.

"Come on, I'll drive you home," Hotch murmured. Reid nodded.

The ride home went by quickly, and too soon he was alone in his apartment. He laid down on his bed, but he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself.

There would be no sleep that night. And there would be no pleasant dreams for a long time.

If Morgan had been able to suffer silently for so long, the least Reid could do was suffer too.


End file.
